Bean There (Brewed That)
by wordsmith-storyweaver
Summary: For over a year, she's been coming into his coffee shop; but he only knows her as Swan, closed off and introverted caffiene addict. Finally, he decides to reach out and let her know that someone cares about her and wants to see her happy. Coffee shop and Anonymous Love Letter AU from a Tumblr prompt. No curse.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Okay, so this is going to be (relatively) short and fluffy. It's based on a mash-up of prompts from Tumblr, but primarily is a coffee shop AU and a series of anonymous love letters. I recognize that there might possibly be a creep factor in Killian's decision to leave little notes for Emma, but please remember that this is completely fictional. Also, this fic is dedicated to my friend Carmina who is dealing with some heavy stuff in her life. Captain Swan is her escape of choice, and mine too obviously. This one's for you! Enjoy!**

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><p>At times, it feels like he's been watching her forever. Not in a creepy, stalkery way—she's been a regular customer for almost a year now and he still doesn't know her name. He doesn't even know what she does for a living—film writer, TV writer, playwright top the list of professions for people who spend most of their days attached to their laptops, tablets, and smart phones here at Bean There (Brewed That)—but somehow she doesn't strike him as a Hollywood hot-shot or wannabe. There was that week where she didn't show at all, but then was back with an amazing tan and lighter streaks of gold in her hair, so he added travel journalist as a possibility. He only knows her as Swan.<p>

Whether it's the morning's Red-eye or mid-afternoon hot chocolate with cinnamon or even her very rare evening chai latte, she always goes by Swan. Since he was always working the bar, chances of small talk to charm it out of her are pretty thin on the ground. And even if he were tempted to look up her name on the register receipts at the end of every night it would be the height of bad form to go behind her back like that and invade her privacy. So every day as he brews and steams and blends, he imagines what her world is like and if she has someone whether they make her feel loved and cherished.

She's been living in the greater Los Angeles area for a year and a half now, the second longest stretch anywhere but she's also moved four times. With all the suburban sprawl each move has landed her in incredibly different areas, so sticking around hasn't felt as claustrophobic and panic-inducing as usual. But strange a reason as it may sound, moving away sounds less than appealing when put in the context of finding a new, non-corporate, non-chain, honest-to-goodness coffee shop. (Okay, it _is_ a pathetically sad reason, but great atmosphere, free Wi-Fi, an okay music selection, _AND_ good coffee served by an insanely hot guy with an accent who's taken to drawing a really detailed swan around every single cup instead of her name?!) Yes. Emma Swan—kicker of delinquent asses, righter of wrongs, fierce right hook for the wives and kids and parents left holding the bag for their scum relatives—refuses to let her usual case of Cabin Fever develop into Get-Outta-Dodge-Itis because of a cute barista who makes a dreamy cup of cocoa. But she only knows him as Killian.

Well, that's what his nametag says at any rate. And what the cashiers call him when things are running smoothly—Gilligan when orders are backed up. It's almost always just him at the bar and a single cashier, like he has nothing better to do with his life than make coffee for complete strangers. If Neal and the rest of her dating history is anything to go by—her bitchy inner monologue chimes in, sounding just like her bitter, old high school guidance counselor Ms. Turner—his obvious lack of ambition is right up her alley. So instead of packing up her belongings, she finds herself signing a six-month extension on her lease, continuing her days of bail-bonds research fueled by Bean There (Brewed That), and still finding excuses not to ask the aforementioned barista out for a drink _other_ than coffee.


	2. First Letter

First Letter

One of the first things you noticed about Bean There was that absolutely everything clashed. The second thing you noticed was that the vibrant patterns and colors and eclectic pieces of furniture were actually chosen for a strange, yet appealing harmony based on their very differences. What little you could see of the walls were carefully papered with what looked like a mix of old maps of the world and major cities, all in any language except English. Emma's favorite addition to the multi-cultural blend were the low, deep chair and squat daybed piled high with cushions surrounding a low coffee table; the clear Indian influence meant that she could contort into the most comfortable position without having to worry about back and laptop support (which were usually mutually exclusive prospects in your average coffee shop). She's thought of this little, mostly secluded nook as belonging to her, so she's surprised to come in one morning and find a folded, marked newspaper sitting on her favorite cushion.

She looks up and starts scanning the normal crowd of patrons—_right Emma, because the bad guys always make it easy for you by hovering at the scene of a crime!_ And she doesn't know what's worse, that she actually has internally claimed a spot in a public establishment or that her first thoughts fly to the nefarious when she sees something out of the ordinary. More than a little curious, she picks up the newspaper only to reveal an envelope with the name Swan written in beautiful script and blue ink. She stares at it for a moment before she goes back to the paper; it's folded and marked at the advice column, so clearly she's meant to see this first.

"Dear Mary Margaret,

There's a young lady who goes to the same coffee shop as I do and suffice to say she's more than caught my fancy. Yet she seems very introverted, often appearing sad and very much alone, and I don't want to seem too forward or come off as anything but a gentleman. I've thought about approaching her in a hundred different ways… Mostly, I just would like her to know that seeing her brightens my day, that her presence makes the world beautiful and full of possibility, that—from a distance at least—she has someone who deeply cares for her happiness. And now that I've officially stepped into weirdo territory, any ideas?

Sincerely,

Cautious with Caffeine"

"Dear Cautious,

You may be surprised, but that letter is one of the most romantic things I have ever had the chance to answer! If your lady friend is skittish as you say though, there's probably a reason behind it. She may have been burned in love before or in another relationship. No one actually thinks it's fun to be rejected, but sometimes the risk is worth the rewards and taking a leap of faith may be called for. But if you need to work up the courage to talk to her, or if you feel that the direct approach will not be welcomed, try writing her a little note. Let her know that she matters to someone. If she's receptive to a little anonymous praise, then maybe working up to a more direct compliment would be called for down the line? Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Mary Margaret"

Her first impulse is seething rage, followed closely by weirded-out disgust. Someone has been _watching_ her here at Bean There?! But before she can charge up to the counter and demand that the cashier contact the owner immediately so that she can view the security footage and find out which of the suddenly disreputable-looking coffee addicts penned a letter to an advice column looking to score with her. But then his word choices seep in. He noticed her isolation and was considerate enough to know that there was, as "Dear Mary Margaret" put it, a reason behind her cool and distant façade. He worried about coming on too strong, wanting to respect her space while reaching out to her all the same. It was…sweet, in a somewhat junior-high way. Taking a breath and hoping that she won't later regret the impulse, Emma flips the envelope over and tears it open.

Swan,

I only know this name because it's what the baristas call you when your order's up. It's a beautiful name and perfect for you—graceful and elegant without any seeming effort.

-An Admirer

Just a compliment, but the thought and planning clearly involved in delivering it warmed Emma all the way to her toes. There were no string attached to it either—no request for her first name, no demand that she smile more (like the average guy on the street would attempt to solicit out of her, as if she existed only to please them)—nothing except to let her know that her presence in this place, in this moment actually mattered to someone. That he would notice and care and worry if she were to suddenly disappear from his daily routine. And for just a moment, she remembered the ache of leaving last foster home where she had been well treated, where she had briefly forgotten what being a lost girl had felt like.

ESKJESKJESKJESKJESKJESKJ

Killian thanks his lucky stars that he's not rushed when his Swan comes through the front doors. Her back is to him though when she finds and reads both the column and his note, so he can only decipher her emotions from the tension in her shoulders, in the tilt and motion of her head on her long, graceful neck. But when she brings the scrap of paper up over her heart in her fist, he releases the breath he had been holding and smiles. Maybe he has a chance of reaching her after all.


	3. Getting to Know You

Emma had a few suspicions as to the identity of her mystery admirer—but if she's being honest with herself, there's only one person she's actively hoping it is. She also figured that grilling the staff and the other regulars would be considered cheating—"bad form" as he called it in his advice column letter—so she decided to play along. She might not date because she was burned in the past, but she also considered that her pen pal might just be painfully shy, which could be another reason for their caution.

The next day she pinned a note of her own on the community corkboard near the bar, addressed to Cautious, just as she was leaving for the day. If her admirer wanted to keep up the air of mystery for now, she'd respect his wishes…

First response: _I have to say that I am impressed. While I don't usually punch someone in the face just for complimenting me, I do have a tendency to brush them off. You clearly wanted to capture my attention in a good way; you've succeeded. Do I get to know who you are? Do we play a game of twenty questions? Now that you have my attention, how do you intend to keep it? –Swan_

His second note was placed on her table alongside a single rose placed in a slim plastic vase. The lavender colored petals had barely begun to curl out of the bud, meaning it would survive for several days if she gave it enough water, and all the thorns had been removed.

_My dear Swan, What is in a name? While I am atremble and afire at the very notion of having arrested your attention, your lack of trust (though understandable) yet wounds me! Perhaps an enigma shall keep your interest keen. For now, let me say that I live in hope that my message finds favor, dear Swan. Your devoted and patient, Cautious._

It took Emma only a minute to realize that he meant the flower and to fire up her laptop. She smiled when she read, "The **lavender rose** is often a sign of enchantment and love at first sight. Those who have been enraptured by feelings of love and adoration have used **lavender roses** to express their romantic feelings and intentions. The color purple also has a traditional association with royalty," and "a thornless rose of any color denotes an early or new attachment as well as love at first sight."

_Love implies that both parties are involved. And you hardly know me, Cautious. I could be a complete psycho for all you know and single because I get clingy too fast. –Swan_

_My dear Swan, Love comes in many forms, including admiration. I know that you work hard, always here slaving away on your computer. I have seen others approach you, and if you were the type to become overly attached quickly, you would have no doubt accepted those suitors' proposals. Yet you have no trouble giving a good dressing down to those who are less than gentlemanly about your rejection. You are strong and independent, qualities that are always to be admired. Please give me a chance to woo and court you, from behind this assumed name if you wish it to remain so. I would like to come to know you more, but will respect whatever distance you need. Yours truly, Cautious._

The replies flew back and forth, always with Emma posting her notes on the corkboard and with the ones to her inevitably found resting on her table as soon as she walked in the door. Tiny details were shared here and there over the course of a month, until finally Emma asked for a little more. When she jogged in breathlessly that particular morning, anxious to be the first customer through the door, the cashier had smiled and simply pointed her to her table. A still steaming mug sat just on the top edge of a note with her last name on it.

_My dearest Swan, At long last you ask something telling of myself! Let me first thank you for the trust you have shown me thus far (and for not mocking my turn of phrase too much!) in our correspondence. This morning I took the liberty or ordering your usual, which I hope was not too forward of me. However, as I own the establishment, and as you and I have come to be well acquainted, I can very well supply you with a free libation or two. Yours ever, C._

_The mystery deepens, it would seem! But you know that a simple search through public records could give me a name based on the info you have provided. I am happy to accept this free drink as my reward for not looking you up immediately; because I work in bail bonds, so tracking down people and money is kind of up my alley. Really, a gold star wouldn't be too much to ask either for not cheating._

_I'm curious about a lot of things actually, but I'll keep it simple for now. Why "Bean There (Brewed That)"? And I don't think I've seen you, and certainly haven't heard your employees talking about an enigmatic and eloquent boss (see, I do crossword puzzles too!)… But seriously: clearly intelligent, successful business owner, ridiculously old-fashioned romantic… How are you still single?! –E. Swan_

His response came the next morning, this time with a single peach colored rose—gratitude, appreciation, and admiration according to her search engine.

_My Dearest Swan, Once more your show of trust leaves me humbled and flattered, and since curiosity proverbially tends to be fatal, I shall provide my lady with immediate satisfaction. The idea sprung from mine and my brother's service in the navy, travelling all over the world and experiencing different cultures along the way. As you know, coffee beans can be grown almost anywhere in the world, so why not open a shop reflective of that diversity. Alas, my brother never got to see our plans and dreams come true and I have not been able to travel since opening, but I certainly would like to see more of this lovely planet we inhabit._

_I must confess that when you first came in, I imagined some kind of globetrotting, glamorous occupation for you. You seem like a person quite at easy with conquering the world, and yet a bounty hunter makes perfect sense as well. Having, as previously noted, watched you verbally eviscerate an ignorant tosser or two, I can well imagine you providing them with a more physical comeuppance for their presumption. You are a bloody brilliant lass!_

_In regards to your last query, perhaps I have been simply too absorbed in the day to day running of my non-nautical ship to be bothered with dating. However, when a stunning woman such as you enters the room, even the dimmest of men must take notice and I have never been accused of being an idiot. Perhaps it is that no other could compare to you, my lady. In hope, K. Jones_


End file.
